Sunday, May 20, 2012

Postcards from Paris

Last night I had the privilege of taking Courtney and her boyfriend Levi, to see Brad Paisley.  You may wonder what I am doing going to see a Country singer.  And you would be right to think that I did not like Country music.  However a couple of years ago I decided that it made sense to listen to some of what Courtney was listening to, and so my amazement I like a lot of it.  The Band Perry opened for Brad old “guy” that he still is and so she and the BF agreed to put up with me since I was buying.  
It was amazing!  Amazing for many reasons, The music was great, the effects pretty stinkin cool, but the people there, WOW.  Facial piercing on 60 year old fleshy faces, tats that were droopy, ram horns tatted on bald heads, tattoos on serious cleavage, and in  a variety of other places.  Beautiful young women in pretty little sundresses with flowers in their hair, and wearing cowboy boots.  Toned young men, with beautiful smiles, some arrogantly going shirtless.   And then the typical  obese Hoosier, oh yes they were out in full force too. And the alcohol was flowing, and flowing and flowing, until the poor schmuck in front of us puked up his popcorn and beer, the look of disgust on the face of his date was priceless.  I was glad they left because I would have had a hard time, in that venue, in that heat, going gown to help the pukester.   What was even more priceless was the people who showed up late and shoved their way into the guys vacated spot only to be standing all evening in puke!   Jodi makes fun of me because I am always hollering “that people just cant merge”, and this was another example of it.  Those who got there early and sat in the sun waiting patiently (or drunkenly) were buffeted around by all the late comers,  nurse Ratchett looks were flying!  ;)
When the kids went to get something to eat,  I sat there reflecting, as I waited,  that my Saturday night next week should be very different!  Postcards from Paris was especially poignant last night, and I remembered driving to my dratted algebra class soulfully singing along “It’s like a postcard from Paris when you need the real thing.”  I was so full that I cold hardly stand myself because tomorrow I am going to the REAL thing!

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